Reading the Life Line at 81
As soon as I got home to see my mother for Seder, she asked me to read her palms. “Yes, it has been awhile since I have read them,” I answered. I had read her cards just months prior to the sudden death of my father, in which I had predicted she would greatly increase her independent functioning in the coming year. The subject of whether I should read for her has hence been rather delicate between us.
